


gymnopédie no. 1

by campanellaes



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, Pianos, and how ridiculous i think he sounded lmao, brief mention of akechis mom and her implied death, flirting and other romance adjacent gestures, gratuitous lack of jazz knowledge, im just kidding i actually do like jazz, jazz (derogatory), jazz club hours, no major spoilers, p5r - Freeform, the first scene is actually based off the phone call w akechi after rank 4 at the jazz club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28809885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campanellaes/pseuds/campanellaes
Summary: Akechi raises his eyebrows. "Do you play?"Ren shrugs and sits down on the bench, playing a couple more notes at random. "I used to." An old song he learned a long time ago suddenly surfaces in his mind and he plays the first few chords, slow and sustained, and soon the rest of it follows. It's simple enough that he remembers it mostly by ear, a graceful, melancholic melody floating above warm, somber chords that ebb and flow like a dance,lent et douloureux.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	gymnopédie no. 1

**Author's Note:**

> recommended listening: https://youtu.be/S-Xm7s9eGxU

"Hey, it's me."

Ren stops and hovers outside Leblanc in the muggy evening air, phone pressed to his ear. "Hey. Miss me already?"

A soft chuckle from the other end of the line. The sound of a door closing, the rustle of fabric. "I just wanted to ask what you thought of the music today. Wasn't it wonderful? Live bands always have this certain power to their music."

"Yeah, I get what you mean." He puts his other hand in his pocket, shifts his weight from foot to foot. "It makes you feel like you're a part of the whole experience, in a way."

"You understand!" Delight, unmistakable to Ren's ear, genuine and gratifying even as a set of reconstructed electrical signals traveling across a wire. "It's- live jazz is really a sea of improvisation, complex and organic, where as each player joins in a natural melody is born from the chaos."

"Uh huh." Sort of like the thousands of cicadas shrieking in the distance, he thinks.

He hears dishes clinking together in the background, and the creaking of a chair. "There's just something euphoric about that strange, erratic synchronicity. Like... the moment when multiple leads come together to form a complete picture of a case. You agree, don't you?" 

"Yup." Ren peers into Leblanc through the window. The place is empty, so he flips the sign on the door to Closed.

"I'm glad I brought along someone who can keep up with me intellectually. Jazz is a deep, complex style, and I'd love to sit down and talk with you about it sometime."

"Hey, Akechi." Ren opens the door and slips into the cool, air-conditioned sanctuary of the shop. It isn't the exhilarating arctic blast of walking into a Triple Seven, but it's home.

"Yes? What is it?" 

"Do you only like jazz because you think it makes you look smart?" He holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder, fishes his keys out of his bag and locks the door behind him.

A pause. Then, in a measured tone, "What makes you say that?"

Aha. "You just said all this stuff about how complex jazz is and how intellectual you have to be to get it." He drops his bag on the counter and Morgana hops out. "If that's not pretentious, I don't know what is."

"Well, I'm not wrong for saying it's complex," Akechi says, sounding somewhat defensive. "Jazz theory is no trivial matter, especially when it comes to improvisation."

Ren sighs. "That's not my point. I'm not trying to argue with you about jazz theory." He pauses. "You keep talking about how complicated the music is, but you haven't really said anything about how it makes you feel."

"...How it makes me feel. I suppose that is rather the point of music, isn't it?"

"Yeah. You know you can just like things because you like them, right? You don't have to justify them as having some sort of intellectual value, or anything." Ren puts his phone on speaker and sets it on the counter, selecting a roast from Sojiro's expansive shelf at random.

There's another short pause, as Akechi presumably thinks about jazz. "Couldn't I argue that I enjoy it precisely because of the satisfaction I get from understanding its complexities?"

"You could. But why study something like music to that depth if you'll never put it into practice? You're not a jazz musician, and you don't understand it the way you say you do, so that would be a pretty baseless argument." Where is the little scoop for the beans? It's not in its usual place on the shelf.

"And how can you be so sure of that?" There's a note of challenge to Akechi's voice.

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if you did," Ren says, gesturing with his free hand before remembering that Akechi can't see him over the phone. He finds the scoop hiding behind another jar of beans and grabs it triumphantly.

"Touché. You got me this time," Akechi says ruefully. "Sometimes I think I've got to be more careful with what I say around you, but our conversations are so much more engaging when I don't have to carefully polish every word before it leaves my mouth, you know?"

Ren tries not to think too hard about Akechi's mouth. "You say that, but you still sound polished when you talk. It's like I can physically hear the sweater vest." He scoops the coffee beans into the grinder and turns it on for a deafeningly loud ten seconds, drowning out whatever Akechi had to say in defense of his fashion choices. "Sorry, did you say something?"

"Are you making coffee? Without me?" Akechi's voice dips playfully.

"You can have some if you come over. No one's home." Coffee's not the only thing I can give you, Ren thinks as he pours hot water over the grounds and into the filter, and then decides that's probably a little too much. After all, they've only known each other for a couple months, and maybe Akechi isn't actually flirting with him so much as Ren just wants him to be.

"As much as I would love to, I have an interview tomorrow to prepare for, so I can't be out too late. You know how ruthless the media can be." He sounds tired just talking about it, and Rn feels a twinge of sympathy.

"Are they as ruthless as I am?"

To his surprise, Akechi actually laughs. "Well, perhaps in a different sort of way. None of them are as attentive as you are, and certainly not half as interesting to hold a discussion with."

"Wow, I'm flattered." Or... maybe he is flirting? Does this count? Ren takes a big sip of his coffee, closing his eyes and savoring the sweet notes complimenting the dark, bitter taste. He looks at the name on the packaging of the blend, jotting down a mental note to make a cup for Akechi the next time he comes around.

"I mean it," Akechi says insistently. "I do enjoy talking to you."

"If you really liked me, you'd come over and try my coffee. I just made the last cup of this blend, so if you don't get here before I drink it all you'll miss out forever." He glances at the jar on the shelf, still half full.

"You're very tempting, Ren," Akechi chuckles. "Oh, I meant- I meant the coffee sounds very tempting. That's what I meant, I- yes."

"Something you need to tell me?" Ren turns off speaker and gingerly lifts the phone back up to his ear, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest.

"I assure you, it was just a slip of the tongue. To be honest, I'm feeling particularly tired today, and it's already past the usual time I go to sleep. For some reason I always end up talking longer than I expect when it's with you." Akechi's voice is perfectly even again, betraying nothing, and Ren can't help but deflate a little.

"Well, don't let me keep you if you've got a busy day coming up. We can talk some other time."

"Of course." He pauses. "If you want to go to the jazz club again, just text me and I'll join you if I'm free that evening."

"Alright, I will. Thanks." Ren bites his lip. "Goodnight, Akechi."

"Goodnight, Ren. Sweet dreams." Click.

Ren lowers his phone and stares at it for a moment. He sighs and shoves it in his pocket.

\--

Less than twenty four hours later, he's standing on the street outside Jazz Jin refreshing his messages every thirty seconds and feeling his shirt start to stick to his back with sweat. The day's heat radiates off the cobblestones as the sunset starts to fade into the city lights, and it would feel sort of nice and atmospheric if he wasn't alone with his gradually mounting sense of dread. He had decided to get here a little early but he miscalculated so now the place doesn't open for another half an hour and Akechi saw the messages he sent fifteen minutes ago on the train but hasn't responded and he's starting to think that maybe this was all A Mistake and he should just go home and crumple into a ball.

Suddenly, the door of the jazz club opens and the proprietor pops his head out, startling Ren. "Sorry, kid, we're not open yet."

"Oh, I'm not- I mean, I'm just waiting for a friend," Ren says quickly.

The proprietor seems to squint at him a little. For some reason he's wearing dark sunglasses even though he was just indoors. "You're Akechi-kun's friend from yesterday, aren't you?"

"Uh, yeah, that's me. I'm actually waiting for him. I think." If he didn't just get ghosted for no reason. Haha. 

"Well, you're pretty early. It might be a while." The proprietor looks around. "Want to come wait inside? No point in standing out here in the heat." 

"I don't want to impose, I can just go wait at the convenience store or something."

The man shrugs. " 'S no problem, kid. But if you don't want to, I won't force you."

Ren hesitates, and then nods. "Okay. Thank you."

He shoves his phone in his pocket and follows the proprietor down the steps- "my name's Muhen, by the way"- and walks into the air-conditioned embrace of Jazz Jin. The only other person there besides him and Muhen is an employee tidying up behind the bar. In the absence of chattering patrons and clinking glasses, live music and mood lighting, the room gives off the impression of an empty auditorium with the house lights on, waiting with anticipation for the guests to arrive and give it life.

In the expectant quiet, Ren's phone pings with a text and he whips it out at light speed, almost dropping it on the floor. It's from Ann, asking about the math homework that Ren hasn't done yet either.

He sighs in defeat and sets his stuff down at a table, typing out a reply immediately because he's a good friend like that. He sends it and checks his messages with Akechi again. Still no response.

"So how long have you known Akechi-kun?" Muhen asks from behind the bar, making Ren jump.

"Oh, we. We met around two months ago, at one of his TV shoots. Why do you ask?" He rakes a hand through his hair, telling himself to just calm the fuck down and stop being so jumpy.

"Well, pardon my saying so, but I assumed you two were rather close. In all the time he's been a regular here, he's never brought someone else with him." Muhen pauses wiping the counter to give Ren what might be a meaningful look, but he can't really tell behind the sunglasses.

"He did tell me that yesterday." It had been sort of an I-bet-you-say-that-to-all-the-boys moment for Ren, and he hadn't really let himself believe it until now- it comes with a strange, intoxicating rush, knowing that he really had earned his way into Akechi's confidence. "I wouldn't say we're that close, though. Just... regular friends, I guess."

"Hmm. Well, either way, I'm glad he's found someone his age he can relate to." The conversation apparently ends there as Muhen and the other employee go into a back room, and Ren sits back in a chair.

His phone pings again and he sighs, already thinking of the most tactful way to tell Ann to bother Ryuji about the homework instead, even though he probably hasn't done it either. So when he sees that the text is from Akechi, his heart rate spikes through the roof.

**[Akechi]** I'm sorry- I thought I had responded to you earlier, but apparently in the chaos it slipped my mind.

Ren waits anxiously as Akechi types for a very long time.

**[Akechi]** I'm here, but I don't see you- I wouldn't blame you if you decided to go home because you thought I stood you up. I'm disappointed that I missed you tonight, but perhaps I can make it up to you tomorrow?

 **[Ren]** WAIT NO dont leave im here

 **[Ren]** come inside

 **[Ren]** to jazz jin i mean

 **[Akechi]** ? But they're not open yet.

 **[Ren]** oh my god

He rushes out the door and up the stairs, coming abruptly face to face with Akechi around the corner.

He looks up from his phone with surprise. "Ren! How did you get in so early?" 

"I gave Muhen the secret password and he let me in." Ren stares at him for a second. "It's a billion degrees out and you're still wearing a sweater vest?"

"They wanted me to dress casually for the interview to give me some sort of new appeal that the school uniform doesn't, I suppose. I didn't really have the time to change before I got here." Akechi gives him an apologetic smile.

"It's fine, I didn't dress up either or anything." He resists the sudden urge to look down at his own clothes to make sure he's not underdressed. It's just the jazz club, they're just hanging out, it's fine. "Well, come on, let's go inside."

They head back down the stairs and through the door into the empty club, and this time Ren feels a little like he's floating. _It must be the heat getting to my head_ , he thinks as he watches Akechi pull off his sweater vest and shove it into his briefcase, rolling up his sleeves to his forearms. With his hair falling perfectly to frame his dark eyes and flushed cheeks, the open collar of his white button down revealing his pale throat and elegant collarbones, Akechi turns and gives Ren a completely different kind of smile that sends shivers down his spine. "Is this more to your tastes?" he asks slyly.

Ren's mouth is suddenly very dry. "Um. Yeah, that's great," he manages to say, realizing for probably the fourth or fifth time since they've met that he's completely and utterly doomed.

Akechi just laughs. "You know, you're very predictable sometimes, Ren." He sits down at their table, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

 _And you're very attractive._ "Hey, at least you think I'm entertaining," he says, taking the chair across from Akechi and trying very hard not to stare at him.

"Do I, though?" Akechi says, leaning across the table on his elbows. "Very well then, entertain me. The singer won't be here today, so I suppose you'll have to do."

"What, you want to laugh at me when I try to sing? You've got a sick sense of humor," Ren complains. 

"Well, if you have any other ideas, then by all means." Akechi gestures vaguely, covering his smile with his other hand.

Ren hesitates, looking over at the microphone and piano in the center of the room, the black polished wood reflecting the ceiling lights. Someone had forgotten to put the cover back on the keys, and they gleam, familiar and inviting. He walks over to the piano and presses down a key, the note resonating through the room with surprising clarity.

Akechi raises his eyebrows. "Do you play?"

Ren shrugs and sits down on the bench, playing a couple more notes at random. "I used to." An old song he learned a long time ago suddenly surfaces in his mind and he plays the first few chords, slow and sustained, and soon the rest of it follows. It's simple enough that he remembers it mostly by ear, a graceful, melancholic melody floating above warm, somber chords that ebb and flow like a dance, _lent et douloureux._

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Akechi wander over, watching Ren with a strangely unguarded curiosity, seemingly unsure of whether to let his gaze land on Ren's hands or his face. From a few glances he gets the distinct impression that Akechi is more focused on staring at him than really listening, and he doesn't know whether to feel flattered or vaguely disappointed. He decides to roll with it, adding a swell to the notes, a tinge of flourish in an otherwise tranquil piece, apologizing to the long-dead composer for hoping this entire display might increase his chances of getting laid or something.

"I didn't know you were a musician. You never miss an opportunity to surprise me, do you?" Akechi says when Ren pauses at a break in the music.

He looks up from the keys and tries to keep playing, but he hits a wrong note immediately and gives up, lifting his foot off the pedal. "Well, this isn't jazz, so I'm afraid it might not be intellectually stimulating enough for you," he says, grinning.

"I do actually like jazz, you know." Akechi pouts just the tiniest bit. "It's just... well, I stand by what I said last night. It's fascinating watching you- watching someone play, getting a glimpse into what they're feeling just by hearing their music." He pauses. "It sounds impossible, doesn't it? That certain wavelengths in the air can convey emotion that we can't quite put into words."

"Not at all." Ren thinks for a second. He scoots over on the bench, patting the empty space next to him. "Here, have a seat."

To his surprise, Akechi actually sits down next to him. The bench is just barely wide enough for them to sit shoulder to shoulder with their legs almost touching- Ren takes a deep breath, tries not to let the proximity get to him. "What are we doing?" Akechi asks.

Ren positions his hand over the keys. "Put your left hand over mine," he instructs, and Akechi tentatively obeys, placing slim fingers on top of Ren's. They're cold and surprisingly calloused, and they'd probably look good on any kind of instrument, he thinks as he slowly plays the opening chords a few times with both hands. 

He looks up to gauge Akechi's reaction- "I don't get it. What are you trying to show me?" Akechi says when Ren pauses, turning to him.

Ren removes his left hand, leaving Akechi's on the keys. "Do you remember which keys I just pressed with my left hand?" Akechi nods and plays the first note, holds it out expectantly like a call- and then Ren plays the next chord like a response, and watches Akechi's face light up.

He plays his second note. "It's a duet," he realizes as Ren follows with the second chord, and somehow the music sounds brighter than it did a minute ago as he watches Akechi try to bite back a smile.

"You see what I'm getting at now?" Ren's smiling too- he can't help it, it's so infectious. And cute.

"Yes, I think so." Akechi plays his next note a little softer, and Ren instinctively matches him. "I think I'm starting to understand. It's- it's like a language. You're fluent, and that allows you to connect with other people sometimes even when they don't speak the same language. I compared it to a eureka moment in a case before, but really it's more like..." he falters for a second. "Do you remember the first time we played pool, when you noticed I was using my right hand and told me not to hold back anymore?" Ren nods. "It... felt a little like that."

"Like a challenge? Or like we see each other a bit better?"

"Well... I'm not sure, exactly." Akechi frowns, contemplating. "I don't know that I can put it into words."

Ren shrugs. "You don't have to. Sometimes it's just how you feel." He plays a phrase of the melody by itself an octave too high, the notes echoing through the room all clear and lonesome. "I thought you did a pretty good job using your words before."

"Yes, but that's not exactly what I wanted to say," Akechi begins, and then doesn't elaborate. Ren sneaks a confused glance at him, trying to figure out his furrowed brows and mouth pressed into a thin line. "You know-" he makes an abrupt gesture, aborts halfway through and drops his hand back into his lap. "My mother used to sing to me all the time. I remember she wasn't very good at it, but at the same time she had the voice of an angel. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah," Ren says quietly.

"We... we were always struggling. She was rarely ever happy. But listening to her, you could hardly tell." Akechi twists his hands together, ducks his head. "I wonder what it is I'm missing." 

"I'm sure she was happy just to be with you." Who wouldn't be?

"Me?" Akechi looks up in disbelief, laughs so despondently it twists Ren's insides into knots. "No. No, I don't think I was anything to her but a curse."

"But she sang to you, didn't she?" She cares about you. I care about you.

"It's been a decade, Ren. She doesn't anymore."

Akechi doesn't say anything else. He's never looked so quietly miserable, the way his shoulders curl in and shadows hang beneath his eyes speaking of an exhaustion far beyond his years. The silence stretches on, and Ren selfishly marvels at him, at an Akechi that probably no one else gets to see. He thinks about reaching for his hand, decides that it's definitely too much.

"Akechi," he tries.

Abruptly, loud footsteps from another room cut him off. "The place is opening in a few minutes, so I'm gonna have to kick you out for a bit. You guys gotta get in line for a table like everyone else," a voice calls from the direction of the bar, shattering the quiet.

"Oops. Looks like we might've overstayed our welcome," Akechi says cheerily, standing up so fast he almost knocks the bench over. His face is suddenly a pleasant mask again, any trace of anything else completely gone, and something cold settles in Ren's stomach as he realizes that he'd just never noticed the facade before because it had been so frighteningly perfect until a few minutes ago.

Who is Akechi, really? The sum of his masks? His heart?

They thank Muhen and apologize for their intrusion on the way out, and then they're spit out onto a crowded street where the budding twilight is drowned out by neon signs. All around them are people going home from work or looking for a way to unwind, and after the quiet of the club the noise is absolutely overwhelming. 

"Let's go somewhere else," Akechi suggests. He's not smiling anymore, which surprisingly sets Ren at ease a little bit.

Also surprisingly, he doesn't find himself wanting to go back to Jazz Jin right now either. He scans the area for things to do, takes in all the brightly lit storefronts, the delicious smells coming from the back alley restaurants that he hasn't had a chance to try yet, wonders if Akechi would enjoy a game of darts even if he doesn't know what a baton pass is. He mulls it over.

"Want me to make you a cup of coffee?" 

Akechi visibly droops with relief. "Yes, I would love that.

\--

As Ren crawls into bed that night, he gets a text. Ignoring Morgana trying to bat the phone out of his hand and telling him to go to sleep _or else_ , he opens it.

**[Akechi]** Hey, I had a wonderful time this evening. Thank you for inviting me.

 **[Ren]** yeah no problem, I had fun too :)

 **[Akechi]** It's always refreshing, getting to talk to you. I'm sorry if some of the things I said today were strange or off-putting. It's just that our conversation happened to bring up memories that I haven't thought about in a very long time.

 **[Ren]** you dont have to apologize, you know

 **[Ren]** you can talk to me about literally anything. listening to people has kinda become my specialty

"Who in the world are you texting at this time of night?" Morgana grumbles, swiping at Ren's phone again.

"It's only eleven o'clock." He holds his phone out of reach and tries to keep the screen hidden. Can Morgana even read?

**[Akechi]** Haha, well, in that case.

 **[Akechi]** I have to admit I stayed so late tonight because I didn't feel like being alone just yet if I could help it. I don't usually prefer being in someone's company for so long, but you tend to bring out a side of me that I never expect.

"Is it Akechi? You've been hanging out with him a lot lately," Morgana says suspiciously.

"No, I haven't." Ren curls up on his side and stares at the typing bubble as it pops up, goes away, comes back again for at least a full minute.

**[Akechi]** I keep thinking about what you showed me with the piano, except now I can't quite remember exactly what it was that I realized, just the way that it made me feel. But I think it felt like we were close, if only for a brief instant in a way that I don't know really know how to describe. And if it's not too much to ask, I'd like to have that again.

"Oh my god, what the hell..." Ren's face suddenly feels like it's on fire and he smashes it into his pillow like he's trying to extinguish it.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Morgana's voice drifts down from the windowsill, entirely too smug.

"Oh, shut up." 

**[Ren]** so you're asking to see me again soon basically

 **[Akechi]** Basically.

 **[Ren]** tomorrow im busy all afternoon but if you come to leblanc in the evening i'll be here!

 **[Ren]** i'll try not to give you a crisis this time but no promises

 **[Akechi]** Noted. I won't hold you to it.

 **[Akechi]** But if there's anyone I would have a crisis around, it would be you.

 **[Ren]** awww <3

"You know you're grinning like an idiot right now?" Morgana says.

Ren looks up from his phone. "What?" 

"Nothing."

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer I am not a pianist but I _can_ play the [song](https://youtu.be/S-Xm7s9eGxU) that ren played 
> 
> the part about akechi's mom singing was inspired by pieces I've played that call specifically for an untrained vocalist to represent the voice of a parent that had just passed away, particularly maslanka's 10th symphony and jim stephenson's 2nd symphony (which feels silly to write out because its so specific and also this is just a fanfiction)


End file.
